Like a Pawn I Live Day By Day for the Cause Itself
by Time is of the Essence
Summary: SIXTH YEAR FIC. A Pawn that can be used at their biding. Alone in a cold world, put into storage until needed. How will Harry make sure his needs be taken care of? Will he even care?


It was in a small neighborhood in Surrey where an odd looking pack of owls began to descend in an uncanny formation until they hovered over a well- groomed lawn with meticulous gardens. It looked as if they had reached a destination of some sort, they seemed to be communicating, hooting in varying tones. With the last hoot, they descended once more, and landed on a windowsill of the second floor. Through the window, there was a boy, of about sixteen years of age. His name was Harry Potter. This boy wasn't your ordinary, every day sixteen-year-old boy. Why, you ask? Well, because he attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If that doesn't explain why he is so "odd", then a further explanation is in order don't you think? Well, even by the Wizarding world's standards, he isn't typical. They call him the boy who lived, because of his famous defeat of the Dark Lord at the age of one. But, not only has he done it once, but a second, a third, and a fourth time as well. Mysterious isn't it? Not if you knew the prophecy, then you wouldn't be surprised at all.  
Harry sat on the edge of his bed hoping that Hedwig, his owl would take her time while delivering his owl to Ron and Hermione. Maybe, she would even go on a hunting trip for a couple of days. He just wanted to be alone, why couldn't anyone ever understand that? He hated them he hated them all! Yet, he loved them. He loved them so much, that he hated them. There was this constant fear coursing through his veins ever since Sirius was killed, and it wasn't fair; none of it was. What if they were killed? Subconsciously he pictured the dark mark hovering over the toppling Burrow with it's many oddly shaped floors, and involuntarily shuddered. Voldemort's evil mocking laugh rang through his mind as a mere echo reminding Harry without fail of the prophecy that he had so repeatedly tried to forget. He remembered Dumbledore in his office that morning; how he had explained that he cared about Harry as a person. But, he found that hard to believe, he knew what he was to the world, and to Dumbledore. He was their tool. A tool that they could use, bend or break at their bidding. They didn't need to be hurt, if they hauled all of it on Harry everything would be okay right? If they could make themselves believe for one moment that he, Harry was okay with handling the weight of the world, then they could breath for one more second. They were capable of releasing the tension in their chest's, of breathing freely, and without restriction. Not Harry, that was a luxury that he would never have, till the day he died, or was killed for that matter. He would never know what it felt like. But it was a lie, the whole bloody world lied continually to themselves, and to him, and he to himself.  
He was at a loss that summer. The pain of losing Sirius, the only person that had ever adequately filled that gaps where his parents were so viciously torn from his heart that October of his first year was overwhelming. He needed something, something that he could waste energy on. This 'hobby' so to speak would be used in such excess as to push any emotional thoughts completely out of his mind's existence. Schoolwork, and studying. Yes, Harry Potter one of the greatest slackers of all time was burying himself in his schoolwork. Since, he had already finished all of the books that he had in his possession, he turned to Hermione. The girl with the books, of course she was so ecstatic over Harry's "newfound love for reading" that she sent them by the tons. He slowly lowered his head into his hands, and heaved a long mournful sigh. He didn't know what to do anymore, and he didn't care.  
Suddenly, Harry awoke with a start. There was someone incessantly ringing the doorbell downstairs. "Probably just someone stupid prank", he thought. So, he decided to ignore it for a while. A few minutes later, he got tired of listening to the sound, and begrudgingly set his left foot upon the top of his staircase. But as he moved to step down the sound ceased. There was a loud pop that sent Harry's hand into the pocket where his wand was located. He looked up to see Tonks' smiling face, now with metallic green hair, looking back at him. "Wha-what are you doing here?" he asked? "Im here to check up on you, seeing as you haven't been all too sociable with your friends in your letters." This was where Harry tried to interject, and come up with some witty excuse for the shortness of his letters, but Tonks went on in a rather expatiating manner. "Is there anything you want to tell us Harry"? "They're really worried about you over there". "Harry"! "Harry, are listening to me"? By that time in Tonks' 'dissertation' Harry had begun to drift off in his thoughts, and a few minutes later everything went black.  
  
As the Dursley's home began to dissolve around him, Harry caught a  
glimpse of Tonks' worried expression. But by the time Harry had caught  
a glimpse of his new surroundings, he already recognized the all-to  
familiar sensation of a vision. He, Voldemort seemed to be yelling at a  
death eater whom Harry had recognized as Nott. "We have found a  
loophole in his protections my lord" said the death eater while shaking  
of fright in his half bow. "Have you?" My, my this is good news". 'Soon  
I will have all of the necessary people out of the way, and once again  
the world will cower under MY REIGN", {ending in a high pitched  
malevolent laugh}. "Round up everyone by noon on Wednesday, and once  
again will the world cower, and those who oppose me will suffer even  
greater than before; you may leave Nott, and if you fail it will BE  
YOUR HEAD!" When the door closed behind the unctuous Nott, Harry felt  
himself growing increasingly angry and wary. These emotions, if you  
could call them that, were not his own; they were Voldemort's.  
Suddenly, Harry's scar erupted with inexplicable pain. "Time to go  
Harry, and don't worry, we will be seeing each other very soon.if all  
goes well". {Everything goes black}  
Harry awoke lying in a room that he didn't recognize. The walls seemed  
to be a light bluish color with small flecks of green. The walls seemed  
to be covered in picture frames, though his vision wasn't too clear due  
to the absence of his glasses. He groped over the bedside table in  
desperation to find them, but somehow managed to knock them onto the  
floor instead. Unsteadily, he lifted his body out of the bed, but  
almost collapsed due to the pain and soreness in his muscles. Regaining  
his composure, he grabbed the doorknob, turned the handle, and shuffled  
out to the landing above the stairs. There were numerous pictures of  
cats covering the white walls. Then suddenly he realized where he was,  
and felt so stupid for not knowing the blatantly obvious. Ms. Figg's  
house! "But. why would I be at Ms. Fig's house?", he wondered. "I must  
have collapsed when Tonks came, maybe she brought me here?". Loud  
voices awakened him from his reverie. They seemed to be arguing about  
him, and his apparent safety." Of course I care about his well being."  
Said a voice that Harry assumed belonged to Dumbledore. "If You-Know-  
Who finds some way to breach the wards.we would never know-that is if  
they go about it in the right way." "The only possible way for  
Voldemort to breach the wards is if Harry isn't there at present, they  
would be immediately repelled in a fraction of a second once Harry  
walked within the security range." Said the first voice. "But-the  
Dursleys.they could be killed?" "Yes, I am afraid so, but that is not  
likely.Even so, we will still be able to ensure Harry's safety while he  
is in the care of his relatives". The Dursleys.in Danger. because of  
me?"  
It was with this last statement that Harry was prompted to make his  
presence known; he couldn't stand it any longer. With an assertive  
clearing of his throat, the three people in the room looked up with  
looks of both relief, and fear that he had overheard. Harry was  
surprised to see Dumbledore among both Tonks and Ms. Fig. "Why hello  
Harry, how are you feeling?" said Dumbledore. Ignoring the older man's  
question Harry posed a question of which he felt held more importance  
at the current time. "Why am I here"? Dumbledore stared at him for a  
few moments clearly trying to use his prestigious Legilimens abilities.  
But fortunately Harry had already thought that through. In his frequent  
readings during the summer, he had found time to master Occlumency, and  
was currently working on Legilimency. Dumbledore continued to stare at  
him for some time, but eventually gave in and responded. "After you  
collapsed after what I assume was a vision {going on after seeing Harry  
nod his assent} Tonks brought you here, and contacted me." So, how are  
you; your summer?" "Fine" Harry spoke flatly and simply not conveying  
much sincerity. "So am I staying at the Dursleys?" he asked in an  
almost begging tone. He couldn't bear to be the cause for another's  
death, not again.  
"Yes Harry, I am afraid so. I know that you don't like it there, but  
it's for your own safety", said Dumbledore still trying to enter  
Harry's mind. For another few uncomfortable moments Harry and  
Dumbledore stared at each other trying to discern each other's  
thoughts. "So, Harry I assume that you must have something to tell me".  
"No-why would I have something to tell you"? "Your vision Harry.?"  
Harry then began to give them the synopsis of his vision in a rather  
curt tone "oh, well. Voldemort { Ms. Figg flinches} was praising Nott  
for getting information on how to break through some sort of security  
barrier, and then he went off on how he will now be able to acquire  
world domination. Nothing new." Dumbledore nodded with understanding,"  
Did he specify whom they were going to try to kill Harry?" "Im not sure  
really, for some reason I.I don't really remember what happened in the  
later part of the dream. What the-It was as clear as day a few moments  
ago-Professor I-." Harry was telling the truth, he had just received an  
undeniable case of amnesia. He shook his head muttering to himself.  
"They won't be able to get in Arabella, I know they won't" "Are you  
sure?" "Well, they won't be able to get to Harry, of that I am sure".  
This exchange of words brought Harry back to reality. "Who is they  
Professor- and why won't they be able to get to me?" "I think its in  
due time that you be on your way back to the Dursleys Harry, Come on, I  
will walk you back" "But- Professor." "Forget about it Harry, and if  
you have anymore of these visions, please contact me" As they made  
their way back to the Dursleys, and uneasy silence filled the Tuesday-  
night air. They both knew that there were still things that needed to  
be said, but Harry didn't ask, and Dumbledore didn't tell. Once they  
reached the door, Dumbledore said something to Harry that would never  
escape his mind. "Harry, always remember that you are very important to  
the cause, and to those that care about you, myself included. We will  
do anything to save you, but there will be sacrifices along the way".  
With those words he disaparated, leaving Harry to ponder on his words  
in the cold night air. That night he made his way up to his room filled  
with Dudley's old toys, and lay down to think about the day's  
happenings. Just as he was about to drift off into a peaceful slumber  
his Uncle barged into the room. "POTTER! WHERE IN THE NAME OF .well w-  
WHERE WERE YOU!" "I was at Ms. Fig's house helping here do the  
laundry", he answered surprised at his improving lying skills. "Well,  
ah, euh.there better have not been any.you know.funny stuff". "And if  
there was?" asked Harry with the certain edge to his voice that had  
become habitually his own. "DON'T YOU USE THAT CHEEK WITH ME BOY! I  
SWEAR PETUNIA AND I HAVE ALWAYS KNOWN. You will be death of us boy, I  
have always known." This had become Vernon's favorite soliloquy since  
he had returned from his fifth year. These words tore him abruptly back  
to his state of unease and depression, back to Sirius, and his  
ill=fated existence. 


End file.
